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Gone to Earth

Gone to Earth

Author: Mary Webb
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Chapter 1 No.1

Word Count: 2221    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

, imponderable-and were torn to fragments on the fangs of the mountains, so ending the

topped a round hill. A purple mist hinted of buds in the tree-tops, and

-only the sharp calyx-point, the pricking tip of the bud, like s

tongues of green fire. Between the larch boles and under the thickets of honeysuckle and blackberry came a tawny silent form, wearing with the calm dignity of woodland creatures a beauty of eye and limb, a brilliance of tint, that few-women could have wo

girl's voice, chidingly motherly. 'And if you'm alost, I'm alost; s

after her, racing down the Callow in the cold le

ates a cage. She was a rover, born for the artist's joy and sorrow, and her spirit found no relief for its emotions; for it was dumb. To the linnet its flight, to the thrush its song; but she had neither f

ld-all that other women would have put into their prayers, she gave to Hazel. The whole force of her wayward heart flowed into

-an old, dirty, partially illegible manuscript-book of

age she had been wildly jealous of the tall gilt harp with its faded felt cover that stood in the corner of the living-room. Then her jealousy changed to love of it, and her one desire was to be able to draw music from its plaintive strings. She could never master even the rudiments of music, but she would sit on rainy evenings when Abel was away and run her thin hands over the strings with a despairing passion of grieving love. Yet she could not bear to he

f the Eisteddfod week. That was nineteen years ago, and she was fled like the leaves and the birds of departed summers; but God's Little Mountain still towered as darkly to the eastward; the wind still leapt sheer from the chapel to the young larches of the Callow; nothing had changed at all; only one more young, anxious, eager creature had come into

med to be dipped in blood. The fox, wistfulness in her expression and the consciousness of coming supper in her mind, gazed obediently where her mistress gazed, and was touched with the same fierce beauty. They stood there fro

ook each in its turn the prevailing c

ow, one-storied, and roofed with red corrugated iron. The three small windows had frames coloured with washing-blue and frills of crimson cotton within. There seemed scarc

ub where she slept. Then she went into the cottage with an arm

rain's cleared, and there'l

y, humming the air he

ontinued Hazel, accustomed to his ways, and not discou

on in 'Ap Je

dumped the cracked cups and the loaf and margarine on the bare table. The kettle was not boiling, so she threw some bacon-grease on

l la

comic-struc

re so entirely indifferent to each other. There was nothing filial about her or p

'It's a fine

hing!' said Hazel with sudden passion.

ried Abel

said Hazel, 'not tha

of his abstraction. 'But I dunna mind playing "Why

per?' asked Hazel. The harp was always called 'the mus

ome bacon off, and her dress, alread

you'll be mother-naked afore a we

d Hazel. 'It unna mend. I

with yer auntie

A

You can bring a tuthree wreath-frames. There's old Samson

ell off her back, and then she usually got a second-hand one, as a shilling or two

ut the blackthorn in water and contemplated its whiteness with delight; but it had not occurred to her that she might herself, with a little trouble, be as sweet and fresh as its blossom. The spiritual

d her-so large a lantern in an unseen hand, held so purposefully before the tiny home of one defenceless little creature. She barke

e whispered. 'What

w moaned. A moan came also from the plain, and bla

ight and she's scented the jeath pack.' She looked about nervously. 'I ca

nto the cottage an

good and quiet in the corner, an

er uses than any he put it to in life-changed into the clear-eyed daisy and the ardent pimpernel-scoured the count

t it was the death pack that had made away with Foxy's mother. She connected it also with her own mother's death. Hounds symbolized everything s

was the essence of her creed, the only creed she held, and it lay darkly in her heart, never expressed even to herself. But when she ran into the night to comfort the little fox, she was living up to her faith as few do; when she gathered flowers and la

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